There's Only Night On Pluto
by Grendel's Arm
Summary: Dean Ambrose and William Regal arrive on Pluto and almost immediately meet up with Malcolm Reed, Head of Security of the planet. But what brought them there? What do they want on the periphery of the solar system? Icy conditions and hot conspiracies make for an uncertain future. Rated M for language, maybe more.
1. Humble Stance

_**This is something, I planned for quite some time already. Basically since I've finally started to watch Star Trek: Enterprise right from episode one to the last. So, I already wrote some tiny piece about Ambregal in space; this is going to be the second one, currently planned for twelve chapters of about 25,000 words and, as you've already noticed, as a crossover of wrestling and Star Trek: Enterprise. Malcolm Reed is the main character here, a few others from that crew will probably make a guest appearance. But I only got a very rough plan so far, so there might be some ad hoc inclusions.**_

 _ **Anyway, hope you enjoy this first chapter. As always I'm interested to know what you think. So, feel free to comment.**_

* * *

 **01 | Humble Stance**

 _Lately I've been watching a little complex grow_

 _You know, you gotta know_

 _That's why I chose to tell you_

 _That humble stance and timid glance makes your world turn so slow_

 _You know, you gotta know_

 _There's no-one going to help you._

– – – –

 **Pluto, Hillary Mountains, 10 October 2156**

The alarm went right off when Dean and William both just had made themselves comfortable in their new beds. Hidden under a couple of blankets, Dean sighed. Everything here had been just a little too easy since their arrival. So, this probably was just the start of the difficult part.

But the alarm wasn't on for very long. Just a few seconds later everything around the two men was a peaceful bubble again.

"What was that?" Dean asked right into the darkness.

"I've got no idea," William answered but immediately turned around to finally get some sleep.

And there was the alarm again that actually didn't really sound like an alarm. More like a...

"I know, you're in there. Answer the door," a tinny sounding voice in a strange accent was heard from the other side of their cave.

Yes, indeed. More like a doorbell.

This time, Dean's disgust sounded like a growl because he knew what was coming.

"Please, dear boy, may you let in the gentleman?" William requested as expected. "The sooner you let him get whatever he wants, the earlier we're going to have our peace back."

William sounded like he was already sleeping. So, Dean just for a few seconds pondered over his words but found that his companion had been right. That voice from the other side sounded rather serious and wouldn't go away.

But Dean still had his doubts. Wrapped in as many blankets as he was able to carry, he stepped to the massive door and switched on the speaker to the tube.

"How do I know that you don't want to kill us?" he asked and immediately listened to a laughter that didn't sound too friendly. More like sarcastically.

"Would there be any reason for that?" the voice answered with a question himself.

"Well, I don't know what you've heard about us," Dean said but in an instant thought that this had been a very foolish thing to reply.

"Listen, sir, you've locked your outer door and there wouldn't be any way to open it unless I belong to security and got the keys," the voice now said. But somehow, Dean only heard _security_ and instantly got images of heavily armed police and military to his mind.

"You're security?" he then asked slowly and looked around for any weapon he could grab. But he only saw a stone that he picked up while he heard the man on the other side speaking again.

"Like I said. Now, open the door or do you want for me to freeze to death out here?"

Dean considered that for barely a moment. But then thought that this wouldn't be a great first impression for the two of them. If this man was up for a fight, he needs to get one. And Dean wasn't a coward by any means. So, he finally opened the inner door, the stone firmly in his right.

The man, who entered their cave, wore the typical outdoor fashion on Pluto: heavy boots, a helmet and, most importantly, a thick spacesuit. He still carried the helmet on his head when the inner door closed automatically behind him. But he took it off immediately.

He seemed to be rather unwary of any danger, Dean thought. How easily he could have hit him with his stone while he'd taken off the helmet.

"I'm Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, Head of Security on _Hagia Eiréne_. Welcome to Pluto, Mr..." the man insisted and Dean thought that it would be a wise decision to play to this man's rules – for now. From the back, he heard soft snoring. So, William wouldn't be of any help right now.

"Ambrose. The sound from there belongs to Mr Regal," he told this security lad and pointed towards the snoring.

"You aren't Vulcan, aren't you?" Mr Reed said and seemed to pay extra attention to both of Dean's ears. "No pointy ears and without any will or wish to offend you but you don't seem to be very logical."

Then he smiled and Dean wasn't sure if he laughed with him or about him. For someone who's Head of Security of a space station on the far edge of a solar system, this guy certainly loved to play with fire.

"I don't really know what you aim here for," Dean reported truthfully. But this only earned him a light giggle from the man, who had just started to walk around their cave.

Mr Reed actually walked on a few steps more but then turned around to face Dean again who had been standing on his very spot, still with his stone in hand, waiting patiently for any suspicious movement from this so-called Head of Security.

"You aren't Vulcan. You are Human and from Earth. So, you got at least two names. I'd like to record your full name, not just fragments. Makes later identification much easier, you know?" Mr Reed finally explained, fortunately with a heavy tone of sarcasm to him.

"Identification?" Dean still asked.

"Well, we're on the edge here, far periphery. When I call for help, we're probably get some within a few weeks but not earlier. I'm prepared for pirates, not invasions. Anything can happen. And if it does – worst case that is – it'll be nice to have full documents about any living creature that existed on Pluto at the time of, you know... doom," Mr Reed explained, looking around again in a way as if he was searching for something... or someone.

"You're not very optimistic. That's not exactly welcoming, Mr Head of Security," Dean said, now trying to match his counterpart's sarcasm.

"Reed. My name is Lieutenant Malcolm Reed. What was your name again?" The man really used his first opportunity to ask again. He probably wasn't as bad as Dean first thought. At least, he could talk and he was able to ask the right questions.

And Dean sighed before he answered.

"Dean Ambrose and William Regal."

"You're civilians then," Mr Reed guessed and Dean again wasn't able to read the man's feelings about it.

"You sound like this is something bad," Dean assumed, now trying to catch Mr Reed with a killing look.

"Not at all. Well, not much. I just have a harder life imagining what civilians would want to find on Pluto," Mr Reed vaguely explained but hardly paying much attention to the new man on the planet.

"Freedom? Happiness?... Security?" Dean suggested.

And there was the giggle again, now followed by an echo that instantly got Dean's attention. He finally moved and followed his visitor deep inside the cave. He hadn't been here so far because it was hidden behind a corner. And him and William had been too tired when they arrived here, just saw the beds and fell onto them. No need and no desire to explore.

"Happiness?" asked Mr Reed when Dean had closed up to him, looking into the direction where Mr Head of Security was pointing to with his electric torch. "Well, if vast loneliness at night is your thing, then you might gain happiness."

"What's that?" Dean instantly changed subject when he saw the wave-like pattern on the wall in front of them.

"We haven't entirely found out yet. They are only at present in this very area. Could be made by alien creatures; could be natural grown structures. But it seems safe to say that we haven't found certain alien creatures. So, it might be here for centuries."

"There are a little too many _seems_ and _mights_ in your speech for my liking. Are you sure, we're really safe in here? I mean, at least till next day?" Dean asked, looking straight into Mr Reed's face, hoping to catch some positivity. And there was.

"You mean, for the coming seventeen and a half years? That's one day here, you know? Pluto is a little slow but that's alright. You won't be able to separate day from night anyway because, basically, there's only night on Pluto," Mr Reed explained with a smile that looked honest and friendly. But then, he walked away from Dean again, out of the deeper cave back inside the outside cave and for a moment, Dean was left alone in darkness.

But he heard the echoing words of Mr Reed, so he followed him back to where they came from.

"I'm going to leave you sleeping now. You should be safe for the next few hours. Just check back that both of your doors have been locked entirely when I'm gone. They should but you never know. Double check is always better than feel sorry later. Understood?" Mr Reed kind of ordered when he'd arrived back at the transparent aluminium front that separated the vaguely cosy interior from the bitterly cold of the outer world.

He probably had a sharpened sense of hearing because Dean was right behind him.

"Got it, Mr Head... Mr Reed," Dean answered. He felt very tired again, so he didn't want to provoke further arguing with the visitor. After all, he really seemed to be a good guy in this scenario.

And Mr Reed let the touch of insult drift into the darkness where they'd just arrived back from.

"We'll have to meet again in a few hours, Mr Ambrose. Tell your companion. It's about two kilometres from here. Simply type _Headquarter Hagia Eiréne_ into your navigator. It's easy to find. Will eight hours of rest be enough for you?"

"Yeah, I think so. Just one last question before you go, Mr Reed," Dean said.

"Go ahead."

"What does that mean, _Hagia Eiréne_?"

"It's Greek and means _holy peace_."

"That's something."

"I know; my idea," Mr Reed laughed. Then he closed the visor of his helmet and stepped into the tube that connected the inner door with the outer one. Dean closed the inner door, waited until the green diode went on, then opened the outer door. And off Mr Reed went.

Dean was still standing there for as long as their visitor was seen driving away in his armoured car. Then he turned his eyes up to the stars. Sky looked so different from the one visible on Earth.

At home, there was hardly any place left where the air wasn't polluted from light and metal and dust.

Here everything looked clear and clean and, simply put, hardly to believe.

Dean was almost lost in his thoughts back on Earth when he heard William shifting about his bed behind him. And that movement brought him back to Pluto. They both went through a lot to get here. It was peaceful; it was quite. And in a few hours, they would have to explain to Mr Reed and hope they were allowed to stay.

But right now, Dean finally wanted to follow William's example to enjoy this peace and quietness to get some rest. After all, he kind of deserved it.

* * *

 _ **That's the end of Chapter One. Any thoughts? I'm happy enough to read them. Let's go!**_


	2. This Is Where I Came In

**02 | This Is Where I Came In**

 _I've seen the story_

 _I've read it over once or twice_

 _I said that you say_

 _A little bit of bad advice_

 _I been in trouble_

 _Happened to me all my life_

 _I lie and you lie_

 _And who would get the sharpest knife._

– – – –

 **Earth, Philadelphia, 16 September 2156**

The streets of Philadelphia were a dangerous place to be in the middle of the twenty-second century. That William Regal immediately had noticed when he stepped foot on those streets for the first time.

Actually only three days ago. Whole Earth was a mess. But Philadelphia probably was the heart and centre of it. Humans had just started to explore space, meet new species – making friends. But they weren't able to keep their own planet peaceful and in one piece.

Maybe because all the good people were exploring while the hostiles and criminals were left to try politics. And mess up entirely.

As for William, he just arrived from England, his home. A friend just called him to come here because apparently he needed some help. But he hadn't heard from him since he arrived. No single word. So, since winter started early in Philadelphia this year and William didn't know where to stay for the nights, he had to improvise.

Temperatures were dangerously close to freezing when William still had managed to build a decent fire in the backyard of an abandoned armoury. So, at least he was able to warm his hands on the flames.

For a last time he tried to call his friend. But then his phone died. And with no power available to charge the battery, there wasn't any chance to get in contact with him. Or anybody else. Something must have happened to his pal. No real surprise in this neighbourhood. But it couldn't happen at a worse time.

Because William just wasn't made for anarchy. He needed just a little structure in his life, some start to work with. But he knew no-one here and apart from his friend had no idea what to do. And without food or some place to sleep he would run out of ideas soon enough.

So, his situation was already helpless when he heard a sound from the long rotten containers that marked the borderline between shadows from his fire and the darkness. First, William hadn't been certain about any noise. But then, he paid full attention, and there it was again: a crack as if someone walked through the night and couldn't see all the obstacles in his way.

Actually, the noise seemed to circle around his fire, all in a secure distance, so William wouldn't be able to see the certain someone.

Or, it was a wild animal that only waited for the perfect moment to jump him from behind.

Darkness always has got this ability to prompt baser instincts in humans like fear and anxiety.

But William wasn't made for either. Yes, at first, he listened closer. But then he remembered that wild animals were fearful of fire, so they wouldn't come any closer. In case there were some. And if it was a human being, he already showed interest, and maybe a fearless counterpart would tell him something.

"Why don't you join me in warming your hands on the flames?" William finally said loud enough, so the originator of the noise would be able to understand.

For a moment, no noise was heard. But William thought that he was almost able to hear the invisible one considering what to do.

And there was still no noise when finally there was a moving shadow which contours became sharper and sharper with seconds past. The shadow behaved like a wild animal with William recognizing as its prey. But it clearly was a human being. That the man with the fire noticed soon enough. Even though with his street dog styled clothes this young man could have been well mistaken for a wild animal – an actual street dog very much.

The hood on his head threw a shadow itself over his face. The man wore heavy boots and some rotten jeans that only its several holes seemed to keep them together. He also wore several layers of shirts and jackets in probably all possible shades of grey. The only visible colour on this otherwise pale figure were his red knitted mitts.

Still without making much noise or saying a word, the man sat down at the fire, right next to William on the T-girder that contained to the remains of the factory. Then he reached out to the flames with both of his hands, not paying much attention to the man next to him.

"You're welcome," William said sarcastically but also in hope to virtually break the ice. And he continued when there was still no further reaction from the man: "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Got something to eat?" the man asked with quite a husky voice to him.

"Not much," William replied, still looking at this strange fellow who still just paid attention to the fire.

"So, you got nothing."

"That's right," William sighed. But to his surprise, the man now turned to him smiling and wiped off the hood from his head, so some wild, brown-reddish locks appeared, together with a pair of piercing blue eyes.

"You've got the fire, I've got the meal. I'm right back in a minute," the lad said and off he went again, right into the darkness he just appeared from.

And William, for just a moment, was left behind rather confused. Would the boy come back? Did he really have some much desired food? Had this really just happened?

Darkness sometimes makes us fearful. Darkness sometimes makes us imagining things we wish for. And darkness sometimes makes us crazy. As a result.

But darkness sometimes also makes for a cosy blanket that hides the good things in life to reveal them from time to time to the good people who deserve them.

Because just a moment later, the street dog boy indeed came back, and he carried a heavily messed-up backpack with him.

"Got this today... somewhere, but couldn't persuade myself to eat it raw," the young man said while opening the backpack to reveal a few packs of welded in meat.

"Have you just got meat in there?" William asked while the other man had sat down next to him again.

"Of course, it's the best to get you full. Potatoes are great, too, but there's too much work in them, too time consuming. Meat is best," the lad said, already opening the packs, then looking around like he was searching for something.

"Are you looking for something like this?" William asked, producing a large metal plate and some sticks from behind his back.

And for the first time since they met, a broad smile appeared on the features of the young man's face. He didn't even ask where William got it from. It had been rather obvious. And just a few minutes later, a delicious smell surrounded the two men while they were eating their spartan meal, in silence and peacefully sitting right next to each other.

"I'm William," the older man finally introduced himself when they had been finished eating.

"Nice to meet ya," the young man mumbled. He already seemed to were on a different place, at least with his mind. Because he still enjoyed to warm his hands on the flames.

So, William waited a few seconds more but his companion seemed to be finished.

"And what's your name, young man?" William finally asked, a little perplexed about his bad manners.

"Why do you want to know this? I didn't ask you about your name? Ya just told me," the man said and fumbled about his backpack. William instantly was afraid that he could want to leave. Then he would be alone again. And all that happened today, would happen tomorrow. The hunger. The cold. Not knowing where to go. Not knowing where to stay.

"You saved my life. I need to know your name," William tried again while the lad already got up. But he stayed and surprisingly enough turned back to William.

"I didn't save your life, come on! At least, you've been the one with the fire."

"And you weren't afraid of warming your hands next to me on the flames."

Something broke during that little back and forth conversation. Mistrust perhaps. Eyes met longer than initially intended. And the young man sat down again.

"I'm Dean but I don't like that name very much," he finally answered the question.

"It's a noble name," William said, actually smiling because of the boy's decision to stay a little further.

"Ya, but I'm not a noble man. My name doesn't fit my character, ya know?" Dean said.

"I see. And this city really isn't a noble place to live, at least I guess from what I've seen so far," William insisted and he got the reply he expected.

"It's a rotten place. No working government, no education and the gangs have separated the city into sectors. There's three drug gangs, then the stolen car dealers, a few gangs of thieves but those lads are very young, since there's hardly anything left in here that can be stolen. This place is a lost city, like so many others on the east coast," Dean roughly explained the situation but surprisingly enough didn't sound depressed. And that was only possible because he was used to his situation for quite a long time already.

"Have you never thought about changing something, making this city better?" William asked but got instantly reminded about some places in England that also have been given up by government.

"You can't make it better when it's all messed up. Where to begin? What to start with? No. When it's all messed up, you've got to leave and start new."

"Like space?"

"Yeah, like space."

It almost came like a natural reply for William. But he was surprised again that perhaps the young man already got this idea in mind. Certainly, all those stories from Captain Archer and his crew making first contact with those alien species, discovering the next neighbourhood of Earth, definitely left huge impressions on the people back home. And deepest on those who didn't have to lose much here.

This was the time of opportunity for those people craving for entirely new beginnings and, last but not least, some meaning in their lives. But only because opportunity was there, didn't mean it was possible for everyone.

Most of times, dreams remained dreams. And some people weren't even able to dream. But that's why William was surprised. Because even though Dean must have lived a street dog's life, every day on the edge of surviving, he still was able to dream.

"I just came here a few days ago," William said after a moment of peaceful silence. "I'm in search of a friend but I'm unable to contact him since I'm here. He wanted me to do something for him but refused to tell me on the phone."

"What's his name?" Dean asked and William could almost smell interest. For some reason, he trusted the boy. But at the same time he still told himself to be cautious about him. After all, he'd just met the man.

"Robbie Brookside. But I've heard he's called..."

"The Golden Boy."

"... over here. Do you know him?" now William indeed was surprised. But also hopeful that he could still find his friend.

"Not personally. But I've heard of him. And he's your friend?" Dean asked and something in his tone didn't sound too promising.

"Yes, he's my best friend. I know him for over thirty years. And like I said, he didn't tell me much about what he was working on but I trust him and I would put my best shirt on him. Please tell me, if you know something about his whereabouts."

William surely wasn't someone for begging. But right now, Dean was his only chance. He certainly knew more than he would admit to that complete stranger, William that was. So, he didn't make his phone call, he promised him, in his presence. He went away back into the darkness where he'd come from. And once again, William wasn't entirely certain that the lad would return to him.

But he did, and he told William that he'd just called someone who had mentioned the name _Robbie Brookside_ a few times. And this someone had given him an address where he might be right now.

Everything about all this was highly suspicious. But did William have another option? There was just Robbie in the entire world he cared for. So, he finally agreed to the boy's offer to come with him and search for his friend.

Actually, the address, Dean got from the anonymous on the other side of the phone call, was situated just a few streets away from the armoury. So, they didn't have to walk too long through an entirely abandoned neighbourhood that just started to get a little less dirty when Dean all of a sudden grabbed William's jacket to drag the man into a dark alley.

Moments later a group of five young men went into the direction, Dean and William just came from. William hadn't seen or heard them coming. But when he was just about to whisper a _thank you_ , Dean placed one hand over his mouth. And instead of leaving the alley, he tugged William deeper into it until they reached a door to a ruin of a house.

Within a few seconds Dean had managed to open the door. But before he was able to get his hands back on William's jacket, the man entered the building without his help.

"That's the place, the very building my contact has given me. Now we have to go to the fourth floor, door number four hundred thirty-eight," Dean still whispered, suggesting that William should do the same if speaking was needed.

But it wasn't until both men made it to the very door. Surprisingly enough, it was already opened, just so the dim lights from the inside were able to escape to the outside darkness as a tiny beam of light.

Carefully, Dean pushed the door wide open, so they were able to enter the premises. Slowly they did, after Dean had produced a large hunting knife from his jeans while William already got some brass knuckles prepared for usage.

But soon enough, through the flickering light, they heard a weak groan that originated from the one big room that was situated right next to the entrance hallway. Both men entered the room at the same time but William reacted first when he saw the hurt man lying on the floor.

"Robbie!" William called out and immediately felt physical pain to his own body when he saw his friend right next to a puddle of blood.

He knelt down to him to try and stop the bleeding on his stomach. Somehow he realized that his friend had already lost a lot of blood and that any further help would come too late. Even though, from what Dean had just told him, this city wouldn't offer too much more help. But still he tried to warm the man, stop the bleeding, try to talk to him.

"Robbie, it's me, William. Tell me what happened. Who did this to you?"

For a moment William thought that he saw a smile appearing around Robbie's lips. Then, his friend tried to open his eyes. He recognized him, and now there was an obvious smile.

It was a painful moment of love and hurt at the same time.

Robbie tried to say something but he failed. When he realized that, he somehow managed to put his hand onto William's neck to get his mouth nearer to his friend's ear. Then he whispered something that William finally was able to hear. Even though it didn't make sense.

When the hand on his neck grew weaker, William lifted his head again and looked down on his friend. He looked to be so full of peace and content that his own heart seemed to contract and drift away.

William felt tears running down his cheeks when everything else happening on Earth right now didn't matter in comparison to what happened to his friend.

"What did he say?" William finally heard Dean asking him for the third or fourth time.

He wasn't sure why this should be somehow important but like he was in a state of trance, William answered anyway.

"Necklace," William said. "And Goldberg."

* * *

 _ **Whether you liked or disliked the story so far, just give me a hint. Cheers!**_


	3. Beds Are Burning

_**Thanks for the one thought about this story. Next chapter starts here.**_

* * *

 **03 | Beds Are Burning**

 _The time has come_

 _To say fair's fair_

 _To pay the rent_

 _To pay our share_

 _The time has come_

 _A fact's a fact_

 _It belongs to them_

 _Let's give it back._

– – – –

 **Earth, Philadelphia, 16 / 17 September 2156**

William didn't know how to cry any more after he did it for a very long time.

His best friend had just died in his arms and his blood was placed all over his suit. First, he had tried to keep him alive with grabbing Robbie's lifeless body on his shoulders, shaking him. And then, he went for uncounted resuscitation attempts until Dean had stopped him.

Of course, William had been angry when Dean tried to stop him at first. But time after time, he'd lost hope himself and clarity hit him as reality as well.

His friend was dead. Robbie was dead.

And after an endless appearing time of emptiness and loneliness, finally the questions arrived at William's brain. Who had done this? And why? And it was only then why William recalled those two words that Robbie had only been able to whisper to him before he'd closed his eyes for ever.

 _Necklace_. _Goldberg_.

When someone dies because he was just murdered, his last words have to have some meaning, especially when the one who listens is his best friend. There _had_ to be some meaning. Otherwise...

Robbie's death would have been meaningless.

William only could take so much. So, he already tried to block out those cruel emotions that only have one meaning: preventing him from the ability to think. He probably needed lot of time to get his thoughts in an adequate order. But he already knew that there wasn't any time. Robbie hadn't done this to himself. There was someone, somewhere, pretty much possibly not that far away, who had killed him. What if William and Dean just taken the certain someone by surprise? In that case, perhaps there had been a reason for the murder but the killer didn't get what he wanted? He could well hide somewhere in here. Or he could have fled to get himself some help. So, his return would just be a matter of time.

 _Necklace_. _Goldberg_.

Robbie never really wore a necklace. But his neck was the first and best place to look for it.

So, William did and what he found surprised him – and didn't surprise him. Because there was a necklace. Robbie never wore one but he also wouldn't have lied to him.

"William?"

The man, who was addressed like this, looked up like he was hit by a bullet. But what he saw, was the young man he had just met a few hours ago.

"Sorry, didn't want to shock or hurry," Dean said, "But if your friend suggested Goldberg was at fault for this, then we shouldn't feel at home too long in here."

"Do you know this guy?" William asked and got up to meet the young man's eyes in a straighter position. He'd read somewhere that this made people more likely to tell the truth.

"I might have met him once," Dean answered the question and didn't answer it at the same time.

"Alright, _dear boy_ , you just told me that we shouldn't be here for too long. And I agree. But playing games isn't the right strategy as well. This _Goldberg_ guy was probably in search for something. This here..." William said and held up his friend's necklace. And only now Dean was able to notice the tiny key on it.

"... But I refuse to leave Robbie behind," William continued.

For a moment, Dean thought about what he got himself into in just a couple of hours. He had lived a semi-legal / semi-illegal life so far with nobody really disturbing or threatening him. Live and let live was the big motto of Philadelphia at day; die and let die was the one at night. And since Dean had learned to love the night, he had made quite a life out of that night motto – like the city wished.

And Dean pleased his chosen city with cleaning the streets and bringing the dead under ground.

"I might be of some help for you. But we need something that we can put your friend into," Dean said, and probably for the first time in his life tried to find the right words. He hadn't really suffer from the loss of close relatives or friends so far. He had no idea where his parents were. And if they were dead, he didn't mind because he never really got to know them. But seeing William suffer opened his heart for him a little. Really, just a little, so he wasn't that much involved himself. But Dean was able to imagine what the death of this pal meant to him.

So, Dean tried his very best not to be an asshole.

"What do you have in mind?" William wanted to know, already scanning about the flat for something that Dean just suggested.

"I can help you burying him. There's a graveyard not too far from here. Was your friend religious in some way?" Dean asked and William's face immediately changed from expressing anger from sorrow.

"You don't mean it, do you?" William unnaturally for him asked louder than he probably wanted. "He just died and you already want to get him out of sight like some garbage?"

"Not like some garbage. Listen, we can't discuss that here and now but believe me, it's the best we can do for your friend." Dean said, knowing that emotions had just taken over on the other man. And he tried to understand it. That's why he stayed so calm. But he also knew that those killers would come back soon. Goldberg never kills himself. He always sends his stooges, not very clever stooges. So, if they hadn't found what they should have, they were most certainly gone to their boss to ask for further instructions.

And when they'd come back, Goldberg possibly would be with them.

When the dust clears or settles, William surely would want to get his revenge. But right now wasn't the right time or place. This chapter needed to be finished first until the new one could be written.

So, the expression on William's face changed again. He realized that the young lad was right. Robbie told him about his murderer and possibly the reason why he was killed. Now, it was up to him, his best mate, to put him to a nice last place where he can stay for a while.

William assured him that Robbie wouldn't mind where to stay, that he wasn't religious at all but always liked graveyards, mostly because it always is so quiet there and so much different, compared to the _real_ world.

Finally, they ended up carrying the lifeless body of William's friend out of this place on the backside of a cupboard, covered with a blanket. Dean almost knew that they probably wouldn't meet any people on their way to the crematorium. It was just a better feeling not having to see the dead lad all the time.

William already only operated on autopilot at the time they put Robbie on the cupboard. He believed Dean when he told him that he would know where to bring him and that he would get a good place. So, William just did what needed to get done and barely listened to the other lad at the crematorium whom Dean seemed to know. That guy looked like eighty years of age; that much William noticed.

But otherwise he was tired, very. The jet lag finally kicked in at the worst possible time when William tried to find a good last place for his friend. Instead, he found some concrete wall where he leaned against. Closing his eyes had been enough to drift away, and he came only back to life when Dean touched his shoulder to squeeze him there a little.

"It's not taking any longer," the young man said when he knew, he finally got William's attention. "Freddy just wants to know if you'd like to have some keep-sake from your friend. You can have the whole urn or just a piece like a charm."

A charm? William instantly was totally awake again. Everybody just wants to make profit out of anything. Disrespecting and impious people didn't even stop at the death of someone's good friend, probably not even close relatives. So, initially William just wanted to ignore the question. But then he reminded himself that this was about his friend, and he wasn't able to speak for himself any more.

"I just want to keep him in one piece, I mean all of him should go into an urn, buried at a peaceful place – if that's possible here," William said. But then his eyes fell on some kind of an amulet on a chain. It was placed on a plate between several others of its kind. He'd never worn a necklace, quite like his friend. But Robbie did tonight. So, maybe William should go for it as a fitting memory?

William grabbed the piece, turned it and finally opened it. There was enough place for a picture on the left hand side and some spot for a bit of ashes on the right hand side. The whole thing didn't look impious at all. And immediately William thought that he might return to England or had to go somewhere else. So, taking a piece of Robbie with him actually wouldn't be so bad.

"Maybe a strand of hair. That won't hurt him," William said and the old guy just nodded towards Robbie's direction to suggest he might go on.

And William did. He walked slowly towards his friend until he reached his side. He was still lying on that backside of the cupboard. But there wasn't much blood left. They had just cleaned his body and put it into a rather nice suit. He looked like he was just sleeping. And that thought brought back some tears to William's eyes. He couldn't stand seeing Robbie like this for any longer. So, he simply cut off his strand of hair with the pair of scissors that had been placed by the old lad on a nearby table.

"I'm sorry, Robert," William barely whispered while he placed a soft kiss onto his friend's cold forehead. And he was grateful for the old man just handing him the amulet without any further word.

William wanted for all of that to be over as soon as possible. So, they arranged the funeral to be taken place in just a few hours, at the coming dawn. And William for just a moment wondered if it had been actual fate that he'd met an undertaker in Dean, just hours before his friend died. But there was also something positive about this outcome: Robbie didn't have to wait days or possibly weeks for a good last place on Earth.

"You alright?" William heard Dean asking him while he soaked in the cold but relatively fresh air of late night's periphery of Philadelphia.

"Not really," William answered, looking up to the sky. "But the cold helps a little."

"So, you don't want to take a shower and a good place to sleep afterwards?" Dean suggested and followed the older man's look until he felt closely observed.

"Do you know about a place like this?" William asked and earned himself a light chuckle that was immediately stopped as soon as Dean thought about that as slightly inappropriate.

"I _do_ know about such a place. Follow me," Dean said, catching a glimpse from the other man and then started moving. First back on the street, then along it onto the opposite direction that they previously came from. Just a few street lamps enlightened their way, flickering ruins of long abandoned houses made a sad impression of themselves. Then, even the ruins were missed until they entered the front yard of a still intact complex that might have been a hospital once. It was long abandoned, too, but to William's surprise, Dean got a key to the back door. And so they entered.

Just a few minutes later, both men were standing nude side by side, relatively warm, relatively clean water running down their bodies. They hadn't spoken a single word until they had left the crematorium. William certainly would have had a lot of questions if his thoughts wouldn't be somewhere else entirely. He wouldn't admit of enjoying the shower. But he did after the long travel and the mostly unpleasant events that followed. He almost forgot about the other man standing right next to him.

Until he felt two hands sinking down on his shoulders.

"Thought you appreciate me washing your back?" he heard Dean half asking, half apologizing.

Initially, William hadn't been too pleased about it because he had just thought about Robbie, about their time together – good memories that had been blown away by this young lad touching him from behind all of a sudden.

And it was only then when William remembered that both of them were nude. So he turned his head.

"Do you want to try something, young man?"

"Yeah, washing your back. I'm also good at massaging," Dean explained, instantly starting to hand out a probe of his art. And his cunning actions made William turn his head back and even close his eyes.

"Go on," he added to the rather obvious agreement while Dean's hands already moved skilfully about his shoulders and down to his lower backside. This young man really knew what he was doing.

But William didn't. He just got to know the man a few hours ago and already showed his weakest side to him, letting him do what he had never let anyone do to himself.

It was a crazy world, a crazy time. And circumstances possibly allowed for him to do crazy things. There was no denying possible that William in some way trusted the young man. Most certainly because he had been the only one who had helped him over here. He also was in a very weak state of mind. He needed to take revenge to deputize for his dead friend. But doing this all alone William wasn't able to imagine. He had no idea about this Goldberg guy and would possibly run into an open knife or a cease fire.

So, help very much was needed. And the help he received right now was kind of welcoming. But still William reminded himself to be cautious, even about the one guy who had been helpful since he met him.

Also, the young man hadn't promised too much when he had suggested about massaging skills. For the longest time, William had been suffering from a stiff neck and resulting from that, his backside didn't feel too well, too. So, whatever Dean's incentive was, William let it happen because his body felt better in an instant. And the young man really knew where to stop.

So, William thought it was only fair to return the favour. And without any further word, he took the soap and started cleaning Dean's back. While he was doing it, he discovered a lot of huge scars and did wonder what the boy went through in his life. He didn't ask though. But apparently the discovery changed something in William. He noticed that he treated the boy's skin much more carefully and intense than before. He went closer and a little deeper, his hands roaming about the soft cheeks of his bum. But still, the boy didn't say a word. And William had no idea about if he was enjoying the treatment or if he just waited for it to be over.

To get at least any reaction from the young man, he dived in between those soft cheeks and grabbed his balls. His other hand he placed firmly around the young man's neck, so William got his full attention when he whispered into his ear.

"Don't try anything stupid, dear boy. Nobody plays Mother Theresa to anyone without wanting something back or selling his soul to the devil. I trust you to some point, and I don't trust you at all. I don't know you. And I have no idea why you are so bloody helpful. If you are honest and loyal, I'm going to mirror your behaviour. If you aren't... well, then you'll get to know about me. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly," the young man said but put a smirk on his face when he added: "Now can I have my balls back, please?"

Later on, temperatures had cooled down a little when Dean and William had found a room with two beds, a small table, a heavy crate and a window that pointed towards the inner yard of the hospital. The room didn't look too shabby at all, almost used.

"That's not your first time in here, isn't it?" William asked after Dean put out the candle and himself into his bed.

"It's like... my home," Dean answered and all of a sudden sounded rather vulnerable.

"Do you like to tell me about the scars on your back?"

"We should sleep. Tomorrow will be heavy."

– – – –

Of course it had to be a cold and quite foggy morning, so dawn stayed right behind the corner, lurking at the scene taking place at the old oak behind the tiny but surprisingly clean church.

William had insisted to carry Robbie's urn to his place, and he also wanted to dig the hole. With the almost frozen soil it took longer than they hoped. But William refused to get some help. He also was the one who spoke the eulogy for his friend, a few words about their early friendship in England, Robbie moving away across the big pond, their occasional conversations. And then William dived into a rather deep complexity of philosophy and science when he expressed his feelings and hopes for the future. He cut his speech short when he realized that the topic was a bottomless pit. So, he only added that he'll miss his friend and that he'll take revenge on the one responsible.

Those last words stuck with Dean until he'd left the clerical estate together with William. They had already arranged for a simple tombstone. And old Freddy promised to get it ready as soon as possible.

"What you're gonna do now?" Dean asked when they were standing back on the street. It was still early in the morning and too far away from the centre of Philadelphia, so there weren't any other people, just noises from far away traffic.

"Finishing this chapter," William said more to himself but sounded serious.

"So, you really want to go after Goldberg?"

"I have to; I owe it to my friend."

"And then? It's not just Goldberg, you know? He's the head. And if you're gonna kill him, his wolves will hunt you down."

"Well, if it comes to this, bury me right next to my friend," William said with a quick look into Dean's eyes. Then he started to walk up the street into the direction of the house that both of them had found Robbie in just hours ago.

But the young man didn't want to let him go. For some reason, Dean saw something in him that he had missed his entire life. Maybe a father figure. Or maybe just a friend. Despite – or perhaps because – of the little incident last night he felt attached to him, connected in some way.

"You need my help, William," said Dean when he'd closed up to William.

"Do I?" William replied without slowing down his steps.

"Yeah, you do. Because you _are_ gonna die when you're doing this alone."

"Well, then, maybe I want to die because Robbie needed my help but I wasn't able to give it to him. There isn't much left to do in my life," William said and he sounded narrow-minded in a way Dean thought that it only suited himself.

"Wrong!" Dean almost yelled at his companion. "There isn't much left to do in _my_ life. But with you there is opportunity for me, finally a goal to fight for. And who knows, maybe the help needed from your friend reaches beyond death. Do you want to risk that for your big ego and fail twice?"

Those words finally made William stop. And he turned around with surprise mirroring in his facial features.

"What do you mean?" he asked after Dean had closed up to him again.

"Isn't it obvious? You still got that key. It looks like it belongs to a PO box. So, you should get your revenge, _with my help_ , and afterwards we should help your friend. Right?"

William looked at the young man for the longest time. He seemed to consider everything and all about his life during that moment. But finally he thought – with the view of the outside voice of reason – that Dean was...

"Right."

Dean's plan had been straightforward. He suggested they needed attention from the right people. And he knew where those people hang around. So, they went to three pubs, stayed for about one hour in each and talked about having something that Goldberg might be interested in. And finally, in the third pub, some bulky guy joined them at the bar, telling them that Goldberg wanted to meet them. Here it had been William who told the guy that they would be in the flat where Goldberg had killed his friend the night before. He should be there at ten p.m. William didn't say he should come alone because it was rather obvious that Goldberg would only play to his own rules.

But when he _did_ come alone, not just William was surprised. Also Dean who was hiding behind the cupboard. William and Dean had been preparing Robbie's flat for about three hours. And had just finished everything when someone made himself heard from the hallway.

A big guy entered, bald head, short goatee. His muscles he had squeezed into a too small suit. No tie.

"I had no idea that this scum had friends," was his initial greeting, smug grin on his face. And William swallowed hard to forget about the _scum_ , so he wouldn't forget about their plan.

"Why?" he just asked instead.

"He had to die? You know that. You made me come here because you've got something I do miss indeed. So, if you'd be so kind," Goldberg said and held his hand out to his counterpart.

"Not so fast. You've got to explain yourself. You don't kill my friend just because of a tiny key and then expect for me to just hand it over to you. You can't be that simple-minded," William said, stepping back slowly until he closed the gap to the table right next to the open balcony.

"Well, maybe I am, maybe I am not. But that shouldn't be of your concern. Now hand me the key," Goldberg told William again, closing up to him.

And William's thinking process was running. Dean had been right. There was much more to Robbie's death and the key than he initially thought. Robbie didn't want to tell him on the phone when William still was in England. He was afraid of someone: Goldberg. And he needed help: from William.

So, all of a sudden, William's left hand appeared from his back again, now holding a spray bottle. He blew the interior hairspray right into Goldberg's face, so he was temporarily blinded. His cries of anger and pain had been the signal for Dean who appeared from behind his cupboard, heavy iron bar in hand. It hit Goldberg's back a couple of times, and William helped directing the big guy onto the open balcony. While another hit with the bar and a final shove made Goldberg flying over the parapet. And just seconds later the sound of a dead impact together with the sight of a heavily deformed body suggested, that the two men looking from atop did what they came for within a rather quick fashion.

"That was too easy," Dean finally said, sitting down on the floor in Robbie's flat, the iron bar still firmly holding in his hands.

"What do you mean?" William asked, sitting right in front of him, still heavily breathing.

"Like I said," Dean answered, now looking William straight into his eyes. "It was far too easy."

Shortly after they heard noises from the hallway again. Many this time. And they were running.

* * *

 _ **And as always: if you like to say something about this latest chapter, anything is appreciated. Cheers in advance!**_


	4. Set the Control for the Heart of the Sun

_**This chapter is there to close the gap between first chapter and the past. Hope you enjoy!**_

* * *

 **04 | Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun**

 _Little by little the night turns around_

 _Counting the leaves which tremble at dawn_

 _Lotus's lean on each other in yearning_

 _Over the hills a swallow is resting_

 _Set the controls for the heart of the sun._

 _Witness the man who waves at the wall_

 _Making the shape of his question to heaven_

 _Whether the sun will fall in the evening_

 _Will he remember the lesson of giving?_

 _Set the controls for the heart of the sun_

– – – –

 **To Pluto, 25 September 2156**

Peace. There was peace. And stars. Lots of it.

Finally.

It was a strange feeling of being lost and possibly getting lost when just a few hours ago the whole world seemed to reach its doom and people were just waiting for it finally to crumble down or combust.

Of course, Dean didn't have such thoughts. He only had one idea in mind and that was staying alive, saving the only skin he had. Plus the one of William. And, of course, the man inside that skin.

Right now he was sleeping. Right next to Dean. But he deserved it. Saved both of their lives.

When Dean looked at William, he smiled and thought that now was a good moment to reflect about what happened during the last few hours. Seeing them now, it could appear a bit strange finding them again in a cargo ship with the planet Pluto as their final target. And if Dean was honest to the world and himself, he couldn't believe that the two of them were still alive.

After all, at least after those last few hours, miracles sometimes happened for a reason.

Hell broke loose when there wasn't any denying possible anymore that Goldberg was dead. Of course, he didn't came alone. His cohorts had just been waiting outside the house, in the backyard.

Killing Goldberg or – as it had been turning out – making him kill himself, had been far too easy. And thinking about it now, everything had been suspicious from the start.

Why didn't bring Goldberg his cohorts with him when he met with William? Bad guys do that all the time. Agreements are made but the villains never abide by them. They always do what's in their best interests and the safest for their own life. Dean knew Goldberg a little. Not really from direct contact, rather from third or fourth grade contact. But that had been enough to know him. He really had been simple minded but also straightforward about his plans and goals. He was all for putting himself first and thinking about himself as the highest and best individual of all times. Such a guy has to protect himself for sure. Yes, he told anyone he was the best and possibly believed that. But he also liked to have people doing the hard and dirty work for him. What he actually contributed to his empire had been ten-second-matches, so to speak.

Goldberg used to take over when the fight had been already won by his cohorts. So, his behaviour in Robbie's flat didn't make any sense at all. It had been almost like...

 _Making them believe it was over. Making them believe they had won. Making them believe they had been safe._

Because his cohorts must have had their worst day ever either.

Dean and William hadn't had any other choice but to hide on the balcony. The cohorts had been too close already when they had noticed them running up to them. Their only option had been to step out on the balcony, close the curtain and the door. And then be silent and wait.

But in the end, they didn't have to wait too long. Despite the closed door, those cohorts – it might have been five or six heavy guys with dark voices – had been talking that loud that they must have intended for Dean and William to understand every single word spoken by them.

What they had said though wasn't very believable. It was something about Goldberg is dead and they can't do anything about it. Emphasized that. And then that his killers might have fled and they need to search but only tomorrow because it was too late already.

They didn't add that it was bedtime for all of them. But that would have been too ridiculous. All they had said had been enough total nonsense.

And then they had just left without looking on the balcony despite the fact that Goldberg had been fallen into his death from there.

Reflecting about all this now, they should have found it strange that the body of Goldberg had been missing when Dean and William arrived back at the street almost one full hour after the cohorts had left the building. Lot of scenarios had been possible. But the most reasonable had been: the cohorts had taken the body with them, so Dean and William hadn't been able to search through his pockets for papers, plans, money or whatever the self-declared King of Philadelphia might have carried around with him. And they most likely wanted for the two men to do all the work that was connected with Robbie's key. Because they very likely had taken over the philosophy of their master. Even though, this master was dead now.

Even though...

Dean hung on this tiny thought. He simply still couldn't believe how easy it had been to make Goldberg fall into their trap. It almost had been comical. And he would have laughed if this all around situation wouldn't have been so serious and dangerous.

Both of them, Dean and William, didn't thought about it at the time. Because after they felt kind of safe about one hour after the cohorts left, they already got another target on their schedule: the fitting counterpart to the tiny key that Robbie had carried around his neck and that was now placed firmly in William's amulet, together with his friend's strand of hair.

Dean right from the start had suggested for a PO box that might have been the key to the key. And William knew that Robbie most likely wanted for his friend to find what had been hidden on the other side. He wouldn't have made it too complicated. So, the huge post office in the heart of the city had been their first logical choice.

They had arrived at the post office in the early hours of 18 September, almost exactly one week ago. Actually, _post office_ was a huge understatement for the very building in Philadelphia. It was more like a complex, an own town in the city where all strands of service, communication and cargo were connected and leading towards each other. It was a paradise for hiding secrets, getting sensible information and organizing trips you never knew wanted to do.

Dean and William had been aware of the most certain fact that they had been possibly pursued. Goldberg's cohorts had controlled the city, possibly the whole country beyond its borders, for a couple of years now. Their fingers had been involved in everything: economics, education, industries, politics, science. Their eyes saw everything. And Dean must have been completely delusional if he'd thought for a moment they could do what they had to do without the empire get to know it.

But Dean also knew that they had been safe at least until they got what had been behind the key.

So, his plan first and foremost had been all about escaping the cohorts at the most critical and dangerous point in time, the very moment after they would have had found the PO box, opened it and got what had been in there.

Of course, Dean also knew some people at the post office as well as he did all over Philadelphia. What Goldberg had done in rather illuminating fashion, Dean always did without anyone knowing that he did it. He always had been there to do the dirty work but not getting any praise or laurels for it.

In some way, it always had been rather satisfying for Dean to know what he was doing and that he was great in it but no-one actually appreciating his work. He didn't like the spotlight. But he loved for certain people coming to him, searching for help. It's always great to be needed. People who asked Dean for help also appreciated his close-mouthed philosophy. In most ways, Dean, since arriving and making a name for himself on the streets (or rather besides of them), always had been the perfect counterpart to Goldberg.

Dean also rarely asked for help himself. So, when he and William actually met up with Cesaro, the man instantly agreed to see what he was able to do for him.

"I'll come up with something and be ready when you'll come back," Cesaro's last words had been to them before they had parted, still in the early hours of the day with the dawn about to make its appearance to the people in Philadelphia.

Cesaro was a serious businessman who liked to make his deals in legal fashion. He operated in coffee import and export but also had a little company for cargo transport. He'd already made a lot of money because of being his own boss. He didn't have to count on other people because he had been able to transport his own products. Dean knew that Goldberg once or twice tried to get Cesaro's company, together with the man himself. But different to other, weaker people, Cesaro knew about his true value. He wasn't someone who sold out to anybody. But he never had been too narrow-minded to not help the very rare people who stood up against Goldberg like he did.

So, Dean knew that he had been able to count on Cesaro when they would meet again.

The easiest part of their operation had been finding the PO box. William hadn't thought about this happening so fast. But Dean knew about the tiny keys. It also carried a little mark that looked like a triangle placed within a circle. That was the mark of a special section of the huge wall of hundreds and hundreds of PO boxes. And in the end, they only had to go through barely forty boxes to find the one fitting for the key.

While William had been opening the PO box, Dean had been supervising their area, already looking for the perfect way to flee the scene if it had been necessary. He had already spotted two bulky guys whom he knew had been close to Goldberg and possibly part of his bodyguard before. Not that Goldberg had ever seen his entourage as bodyguard. Of course he thought that he had been able to care about himself alone. But his empire had been still working smoothly after his death. So, it had been around this time when Dean's brain started working in the background, trying to come up with the whole picture that included everything that happened in the recent past.

And then, everything had been gone that fast that recalling every tiny detail was close to impossible. Because when William had finally found and opened the very PO box, those two bulky guys appeared from left while there were four other guys coming straight for them from the right. There had been just one option left: running away straight through the middle in hope for a crowd of people they could temporarily hide themselves into.

Thankfully enough there hadn't been any loose objects in the box, just a tin can that fitted perfectly into it and now was easy enough to get out and flee the scene. And there, almost out of nowhere, Cesaro, carrying with him a large rifle, had joined Dean and William on their way to the large hallway. That one connected all stores, companies and warehouses of the post office and indeed had been already a little crowded at about eight o'clock.

Cesaro had chosen his rifle with intent because right away it had caused every sort of panic reaction that the three fugitives had been well able to use to their advantage. The crowd had been spreading away from them first, then closing in like sea waves under heavy weather. Instinct sometimes works miracles, and the crowd that had been in collective fear at first, had soon enough figured out who the real bad guys had been in this whole scenario.

Dean, William and Cesaro as well had been lucky but that had always been a part of Dean's plan. That it had been working though, wasn't just luck alone but experience, too. Knowing people and their reactions, their moods and movements always had been huge factors of Dean surviving on the streets. He simply knew about people and how to use them.

But that first step only had been the start of a one week long journey. Next for Dean and William had been two days of hiding. They couldn't do that at Cesaro's place without putting the man into trouble or even danger himself. But he got an old cargo ship that once had been used for transport between Earth and the Mars colony and he offered that to Dean and William to move to a safer place. While Cesaro had been explaining the basic functionalities to Dean, William used the quieter moment to finally open the tin can.

It had been fully stacked with folded papers of technical graphics that William didn't have the knowledge to understand. There had been other papers with rough drawings of the solar system and far beyond, other systems and then one single and sealed paper, labelled with: _For William_.

Before he broke the seal to read the letter, William had gone to an even more silent room, out of sight for Dean and Cesaro. The two of them had been busy anyway but William had been still too moved from the death of his friend that he didn't want to have any company at such a private moment.

– –

 _To William, my dear friend,_

 _I'm writing this letter because it will be still a few days until we meet again. And in case something or someone happens to me, I need to write down a few things. It's a strange way to communicate, I know, old-fashioned, but words on paper is the only way to direct some important information to you without Goldberg being able to pick it off. So, if you read this, I might be dead. But I hope we have met at least for a short time._

 _Let me just say a few things about Goldberg: He has built his empire here in Philadelphia within not even one year. One day about eight months ago he just arrived, already with his bodyguard by his side. No-one really knew where he came from but very fast controlled the city, the country, import, export, everything. There are other leaders in other cities but they had been on the verge of giving up about their selfishness and arrogance. I tried to play negotiator, almost mediator between all those parties. I don't need to go any further. You know all about it._

 _But what you don't know is that since Goldberg arrived, my work had been undermined. I suspect that Goldberg or his men have been hacking into my computer system, sending from messages, even copied my appearance to send videos. I'm almost on my own here, so I still tried to save talks and negotiations but I hadn't been very successful._

 _So I tried to eliminate my problem: Goldberg. It took me weeks to know about his whereabouts. But I managed to shoot him. I checked on him, he was dead. But then, a few weeks ago, he had been back, like nothing happened._

 _I shot him again. It was like he had been waiting for me. And the same happened again: he was back within a few weeks. First I thought I was turning into a lunatic, needing for an asylum. But then I did some research and found out that Goldberg isn't human. He's not from Earth, he's some alien creature who was possibly sent to Earth to weaken or even destroy our efforts to become a working and peaceful society again._

 _What I found out isn't very much because the key to Goldberg's invasion plans isn't situated on Earth. I followed back his signal and it always starts on Pluto. There must be something that allows him to secretly enter our solar system._

 _I know someone there. And you do, too. Since arriving back from his mission on Enterprise, Malcolm Reed is there as chief of security of the Pluto colony. It's possible that he's got no idea about Goldberg. I tried to contact him but I haven't been successful with my old radio technology._

 _William, please go to Pluto and hand Malcolm the papers in the tin can. Together you need to stop Goldberg and his people. And make our people on Earth realizes about the best way of our society and culture._

 _I love you, my friend. And if we won't see again, best of luck to you, Malcolm and whomever might be on your side._

 _Yours, Robbie_

– –

Reading those words brought back a lot of unwelcoming emotions. William needed a few minutes of recollecting and calming down himself. When the tears had dried, he took the letter to read it again. He also looked at those plans again, those papers of instructions, maps and electronic schematics. Yes, William did know Malcolm from his days in the deep sea fleet – Malcolm: an always sea-sick security officer. But when he had been in good enough physical shape, he always had been the first man with the plan, his brain had been always working and the man himself had been on stand-by all the time. He had been possibly thinking of rescues and gimmicks even when was sleeping.

Thinking about Malcolm's shenanigans had wiped away most of William's ill feelings, resulting from Robbie's death and his growing hate towards Goldberg. So, he had been finally able to tell Dean and Cesaro all about his findings in the tin can and the most important facts from Robbie's letter. And when he was finished, he had been closing with the words:

"I need to go to Pluto, as soon as possible."

"You want to go alone?" Dean had been asking him, look of anticipation of the forthcoming adventure planted all over his face already.

And William actually had been surprised about Dean wanting to come with him. But then, he hadn't been surprised. Because the boy had told him about his life being basically meaningless and if he could be able to safe Earth, he'd grab that opportunity instantly.

And so their plan had been made. Cesaro had assured them that the rotten cargo ship would at least make it to their destination. Just in case they would have extra fuel on board and phase cannons, mostly just for self-defence, not for an actual fight. So, they had been lucky when they had been attacked on their first day in space. No call had been made before to announce a forthcoming fight. Surrender never had been an option because the obvious intention for the other ship had been to destroy the cargo. It had been clear to Dean and William that this ship carried Goldberg's men. Somehow they must have got to know about their whereabouts. It was possible that they had got their hands on Cesaro. Or simply followed their path.

However, William with his knowledge in navigating had been able to hide them between the rocks of the rings of Saturn. And at the right moment, Dean had been firing at the other ship to kill their engines. If they were even more lucky, Goldberg's entourage would still drift in space now.

But Dean and William hadn't been that lucky. Because their two-warp cargo ship had been hit, too. So they were only able to drive with impulse from there on. They had have food and fuel for about three weeks on board and William calculated that they could just made it in that time if they would ration their food and didn't have any other hostile visitors.

"I told you to leave the log alone, Dean," the young man all of a sudden heard William saying from his seat next to him. "If you want to do a log, write it down in the book I handed to you."

"There, you awake. Good morning to you, too," Dean hit back because William had already told him before. It was basically their good morning wishes routine since the fatal fighting five days ago.

"Please, Dean, we need to reach Pluto. This mission will be solely helpful if we are still alive when we are coming there. Everything you tell the log will be useless when we are dead because we ran out of power," William said, instantly awake, and Dean secretly admired it for that.

"Well, except I told the log everything about Goldberg and where to find Robbie's instructions," Dean replied, not willing to give in that fast this time.

" _Except_ , your babbling and the instructions fall into Goldberg's hands," William replied again but didn't granted Dean another reply. "You see, there's no winning for us when we're dead."

"Now, _that's_ for sure," this time the younger man agreed and checked his controls again. The ship operated on autopilot anyway but Dean for some reason wanted to avoid longer eye contact with the other man.

So, when William just called his name, Dean didn't turn his head towards him but only barely made the other man know that he had heard him.

"Why did you come with me, young man?" William asked, eyes firmly on the boy, who seemed to admire the colourful lights right in front of him.

"Why should I've stayed on Earth?" he replied with another question.

"Was there nothing or nobody that could have kept you there?"

"No."

With Dean's answers becoming even shorter, William didn't expect for him to give him a straight and illuminating one right now. The timing certainly wasn't ideal. And William had already learned that when Dean was grumpy and short answered, he just didn't want to talk.

That behaviour wasn't much to William's pleasure. He already felt very close to the lad. Because they only got each other for about three weeks. Maybe because he still felt weak and vulnerable following Robbie's death.

If Dean didn't want to talk, he wasn't able to do anything about it. But the young man as well wouldn't be able to do anything about what William wanted right now: thanking him for everything that he already did for him.

So, William got up from his seat, acted like he would go to the back but turned and placed both of his hands on Dean's shoulder.

"I know, you don't want to hear it, but: thank you. For everything you did and do for me," William said, followed by a sloppy kiss that he placed on Dean's cheek.

William expected yells and flailing hands. But instead, Dean did nothing. Only when William indeed went to the back to get himself some comfort and relaxation from reading on his pad, Dean said: "We're in here together for another two weeks, right?"

"Yes, dear boy."

"Just, please don't kiss me again, alright?" Dean said while finally fishing for eye contact.

William wasn't surprised but didn't know if Dean had been uncomfortable about it or simply wasn't into much physical contact. So he agreed.

For the next two weeks they lived and worked rather peacefully side by side. No accidents or terrible misunderstandings happened. When they finally arrived on Pluto, on 10 October, some power on their cargo ship was left, but the two men had been completely exhausted. That much that they didn't even introduce themselves to the local authorities. They straight went to the cave that had been allocated to them at the harbour and hoped for some good sleep.

* * *

 _ **Cheers for reading so far. If you've got anything to say about it, I always enjoy what my readers think. So, let me know in your comments!**_


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